


Hold On To The Memories (They Will Hold On To You)

by seekrest



Series: The Secret Sessions [4]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, MJ is too, Marital Strife (sort of), Peter is anxious about the future, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Protective Michelle Jones, Protective Peter Parker, References to PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: Peter trails off as Pepper tilts her head, watching him as Peter takes another sip of his drink. Alcohol never had any kind of an effect on him, much to the amusement of his peers during college.But it felt like the thing to do, especially at a New Year’s Eve party.It gave him something to focus on, rather than on the person he was missing.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: The Secret Sessions [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537501
Comments: 21
Kudos: 149





	Hold On To The Memories (They Will Hold On To You)

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspo: New Years Day, _reputation_ (2017)

Peter took a sip of his drink, the fizz of the champagne tickling his nose. The sounds from the party - the chattering from well-wishers, the giggles and the revelry - it was all a little too much for him.

A firework went off, Peter flinching as it does - reminding himself not to clutch the flute in his hand too tight and cause it to break, remembering the last time he’d done so and made some partygoers flinch from the amount of blood all over his hands. 

The memories flood back to him. Flashes of a fight that ended in tragedy, of the sky opening up - fire raining down on him as he clutched a gauntlet close to his chest, knowing now what he didn’t then that it was only moments before he would see another person in his life die in front of him. 

Peter wills himself to breathe, doing the exercises that his therapist had taught him - focusing less on the shot of another firework and on the partygoers inside. It’s then that he hears footsteps behind him, recognizing them as he turns to face her.

“They bothered Tony too. I wish more people realized just how much fireworks can be more trouble than they’re worth.” Pepper looks at him warmly. Peter half-smiles in return, fingers tapping against his glass as she walks up to him.

“You know you didn’t have to come tonight. These things,” Pepper sighs, “they’re a necessity for the company, but they’re not required of you, Peter.”

 _Not yet_. Pepper doesn’t say the words but what Peter hears anyway, fiddling with the glass in his hand again.

It was a natural conclusion for anyone in their circle and now for the world, Tony giving him the EDITH glasses all but signifying his intentions in making Peter heir apparent to his multi-billion empire. 

He wasn’t sure how Morgan fit into it, wondering what Tony had even he thinking by choosing him - Peter feeling both frustrated and sad that he wasn’t here to talk about what he wanted, mourning him longer than he’d even personally known him. 

Tony had made a hero’s choice - one that had forever solidified him in the history books, in murals and with monuments - something Peter knew would be incredibly ungrateful of him to diminish, even ten years later. 

But Tony wasn’t _here_. Had given a legacy that suddenly felt like a burden, one that he carried at best as he could but currently held him as an anchor, weighing him down like every other loss in his life. 

A loss that was only exacerbated by the person who wasn’t there with him too. 

“I know, I know.” Peter finally answers, Pepper studying him as he leans on the balcony’s edge. “But May and Happy were gonna be here anyway and May said I couldn’t sit at home and mope so…”

Peter trails off as Pepper tilts her head, watching him as Peter takes another sip of his drink. Alcohol never had any kind of an effect on him, much to the amusement of his peers during college. 

But it felt like the thing to do, especially at a New Year’s Eve party.

It gave him something to focus on, rather than on the person he was missing.

He didn’t even live with May anymore, hadn’t for years. 

But the sting of being in he and Michelle’s apartment by himself rather than _with_ someone else made him lonelier than he cared to admit, lonely enough that when May had not so subtly told him to join the party, he did - like he was sixteen again.

His life hadn’t ever been simple, even then - but the end of the year made Peter a little more nostalgic of what used to be, before everything.

Before the world had been snapped into oblivion and lost five years - in more ways than one. 

Before Tony had died and Peter had fought Beck, almost losing her and himself in the process. 

Before his identity had been outed and his world made infinitely more complex - even if the dust had long since settled. 

Before he and Michelle had started college, navigating what it meant for a relationship to transition from high school to adulthood - even if Peter felt like they were just barely scratching the surface of what that word really meant.

Before graduation and the pressure of what he was going to do next, before the long summer where Michelle found a job and he meandered - a whole and world thrust upon while he tried to figure out the choices he wanted to make as Peter Parker when it felt like the world only thought of him as Spider-Man. 

Before they got married, foolish and in love - thinking that was enough to solve the problems of the life they’d created for themselves, the life that now seemed entirely too complicated 

Before the fight from earlier that day, when they’d said words they hadn’t meant - or worse, words that they had - Michelle grabbing her purse and leaving, Peter shouting at her as she did.

Before. Before. _Before_. 

“Have you talked to her?” Pepper’s voice is low and she says nothing further - but they both know who she’s referring to, Peter having already picked up on May’s earlier conversation with her before.

* * *

_“They’ll be okay, May.”_

_“I know, I know. It’s just hard to see him like this. Ben and I, we didn’t have to deal with anything like the life you and Tony had. And with Happy now..” May had trailed off, Peter pretending like he wasn’t listening as he grabbed a cracker with some kind of fish on it off a tray._

_“You know how it is. They’re young, they’ll figure it out. I told him he’s being too stubborn.”_

_Pepper had laughed. “So is she. They’re good for each other.”_

_May said something in affirmation but Peter stopped listening, not wanting to listen anymore - not when he wondered if being good for each other was enough to gulf the bridge he felt between them._

* * *

  
  


“No.” Peter finally replies, taking another sip of his drink only to reach the end of it, looking on it and absentmindedly wondering how many it would take for him to drink before he’d feel anything.

A dangerous thought, one he doesn’t verbalize but one that Pepper seems to recognize - Peter forgetting for a moment who she’d been married to.

“I think that’s enough.” She says, reaching for the glass. 

Peter relinquishes it, even as he says, “That was my first one.”

“Sometimes one is all you need.” She replies, firm - Peter seeing the hardness in her eyes before they transition into something softer.

“You should call her, Peter. Talk to her.”

Peter shakes his head. “She doesn’t want to talk to me, Pepper. She’s made that very clear.”

Pepper sighs, Peter seeing the gears behind her eyes move - no doubt trying to fix a problem that couldn’t be solved. 

Pepper looks out to the skyline, eyes dancing around as another firework goes off, Peter flinching again. 

There’s shouts from inside, Pepper glancing down to the delicate watch on her wrist.

Peter sees the look on her face, anticipating what she’s going to say before she does.

“You want to come inside—“

“I think I’ll stay out here.”

Pepper smiles, a sad one - tilting her head again as she brings a hand to his shoulder. 

“If you’re sure.”

Peter knows that being inside or outside won’t have any kind of effect on him considering his hearing but appreciates the consideration of Pepper’s request as he nods.

Pepper smiles at him once more, squeezing his shoulder before turning away to join the party as Peter turns back out to the balcony, hearing the laughter of strangers, wishing it was hers. 

Aside from wanting to be away from the hoopla of the night’s events, Peter also wasn’t looking forward to being surrounded by couples - the New Year's Eve tradition that Michelle had rolled her eyes at yet had always done with Peter willingly.

She wasn’t around now and it was his own fault, a gamble that he had taken and lost, hard.

Michelle loved him, Peter knew that. Just as much as he loved her. 

But the fight from earlier, a fight about the future - about _their_ future - had thrown everything into the air. 

It was his own fault, lashing out in fear - reacting to the recent scare of her being kidnapped by some idiot in a mechanized Rhino costume.

Michelle had been fine, pissed that she was used as some kind of cliche bargaining tool, but fine.

Yet Peter struggled with it, weeks later - making a not so subtle comment about her safety that only sparked the argument they’d been having for years.

That Peter would never give up Spider-Man, no matter the cost - even if Tony’s glaring absence proved to him how dangerous the hero life could be.

That Michelle loved Peter, wholeheartedly, but would give anything for him to give it all up.

That Peter couldn’t reconcile that and wouldn’t - wanting to keep her safe even if he knew that he never really could.

That Michelle felt suffocated by his protection, an assumption that she couldn’t take care of herself - one he couldn’t try and deny even if he wished it wasn’t the case. 

And now at the end of the year, here was Peter - surrounded by people and feeling utterly and completely alone. 

Michelle had said she needed time to think, texting him letting him know she was okay. But he hated that she left.

Hated himself more that he let her go. 

Peter sighed, bracing himself against the balcony once more.

May and Pepper were right. Maybe she was being stubborn but so was he, not even willing to budge or listen on something that he knows comes only from a place of love.

They’d been together for almost ten years and yet somehow marrying Michelle had made everything feel different, more _real_ \- wondering how the hell a piece of paper could signify the commitment they had to each other, even if there was something in his gut that told him that it did.

That now if anything were to happen to him, May wouldn’t be his first emergency contact - Michelle was. That she would be the one who would have to face the burden of a life without him if he was gone.

Peter couldn’t reconcile a world without Michelle, the losses in his life weighing so heavily on him. Despite the fact that his identity had been revealed for years, marrying Michelle had made her more of a target than she had ever been. 

And while Peter would never regret the day they said their vows, a part of him wondered if Michelle did. 

He hears footsteps again, his shoulders sagging at the thought that May was coming out to beckon him inside - his own preoccupation with the fireworks and the thoughts swirling around in his head being the only reason for why he’s caught off guard.

“I’m not in the mood, May.” He says, only to pause when he hears her voice.

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

Peter turns around suddenly, seeing Michelle in front of him. A part of him feels surprised but another part of him almost expected it, knowing that for as much as he wanted to search after her that doing so would’ve just been another step in the direction of being overly protective.

Michelle needed time to think by herself. And in giving that to her, she’d come back to him willingly. 

“MJ, you’re-- you’re here.”

She’s sighs, exasperated and the tinge of annoyance still strong in her voice. “We’re married, Peter. I wasn’t,” she waves a hand around, “We’re fighting, but I couldn’t leave you alone tonight.”

Peter’s confused for a half-beat until another firework goes off, flinching before Michelle walks up to him, a hand on his shoulder. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” Michelle says again, understanding flooding through him. 

“It won’t matter,” Peter begins to explain, “Inside, outside… I still hear them.” 

Michelle shakes her head. “I brought the headphones. I went back home… a little while after.” Peter meets her eyes, seeing the tension in them. “May told me you were here.”

Peter actually looks at Michelle now, seeing that she’s dressed for the night’s events. A part of him wishes that he’d just stayed at home if she was going to end up being there while simultaneously feeling like the SI end of the year party seemed to serve as almost neutral territory for the two of them. 

Michelle brings her hand from his shoulder to his face, studying him in the way that she does as Peter sighs. 

“MJ—“

“No.” Michelle answers, shaking her head. “Not tonight.”

“MJ, we need to talk about this.” Peter tries again, bringing his hand to cover hers only for Michelle to shake her head again, her eyes firm.

“And we will. We’ll fight better tomorrow anyway. I shouldn’t have left.” Michelle bites her lip, Peter sighing.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.” 

They both bring their hands down, Peter holding her hand in his as he searches her face. They stand there for a moment, silent yet Peter feeling they’re communicating anyway only for it to break when another firework goes off.

“Okay, come on. Happy’s got the headphones and considering how much he’s drank tonight, I’m not sure I trust him to hold on to them.” 

Peter lets out a laugh, letting Michelle leading him back into the penthouse - watching as she looks back and squeezes his palm three times, understanding what she’s meaning as he follows in step behind her.

* * *

Peter wakes up feeling disoriented, the nothingness surrounding him causing him to panic when he opens his eyes only to feel the blocky headphones over his ears. 

He instantly relaxes, moving them off slowly - already anticipating the stimuli from going to silence to noise when he does so.

He breathes in through his nose and out of his mouth, allowing himself to focus as he glances around the room.

He’s in the penthouse still, in the guest bedroom Pepper has for him and Michelle. He should’ve guessed that Pepper wouldn’t have been partial to them going home in the early hours, knowing May and Happy were likely passed out in their own room somewhere.

Peter has a moment to consider that he’s alone, wondering if he’d merely dreamt Michelle being with him again last night if not for the headphones in his hands. 

But then she quietly walks back in, from the bathroom, no longer wearing the party dress but in comfy clothes, being glad that their guest bedroom still had a change of clothes for either of them when he sees that he’s in pajamas as well. 

“Morning.” Peter finally says, Michelle giving him a small smile. 

“Happy New Year.” Michelle replies, glancing down to the headphones. “You sleep okay?”

Peter nods, sitting up more as he looks more intently at her. 

The rest of the night had passed in a blur, hovering close to each other until things started to get louder outside - remembering Michelle bringing him back to the guest bedroom, the intention likely being to give him the headphones so that he could get away from the noise, even if it had eventually led to other things.

Peter doesn’t really remember when the clock struck midnight or how loud the blasts of the fireworks had been outside, entirely too focused on Michelle - kissing her, holding her close, watching as her eyes darkened and how hot her breath felt against his neck as she moved on top of him.

Their fights didn’t always end like this and Peter knows on some level that she’s right, that they need to fight again - fight _better_ \- about this thing between them. But it’s muted for now, fiddling with the headphones in his hands and reckoning with the understanding between them.

They were married. They were stubborn. But they would figure this out. 

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thank you… for bringing them.” Peter lifts his head to meet her gaze, a softer expression on her face.

“Of course, Pete. I’ll always be here for you.”

He understands the double meaning of her words, swallowing something down in his throat as he nods and lifts himself off the bed. 

They both start to half-heartedly get dressed, folding the pajamas and making the bed together in a comfortable silence. Michelle doesn’t wear the heels she came in, walking barefoot as she holds them in one hand - reaching the other out for Peter as he slips his hand into hers.

“There’s glitter on the floor.” Peter points out, Michelle smirking as she looks at him over her shoulder.

“Pepper knows how to throw a party.” 

Peter nods in affirmation, taking in the sight of the penthouse as they make their way to the lobby. There’s streamers, candles all snuffed out and a smattering of polaroids on the floor, Peter vaguely remembering the photo booth Pepper had from the night before and the picture he’s sure they had taken together, likely scattered amongst the excess. 

They sidestep through the mess as much as they can, absentmindedly picking up stray bottles even if Peter knew as well as Michelle did that Pepper would have someone clean it all up later. 

“Should we say goodbye?” Michelle asks, Peter taking the bottles Michelle had in her hand and dumping them in the trash by the elevator before pressing the button.

“I’ll text her we made it home. She’s probably sleeping or with Morgan.” Peter replied, knowing that the younger Stark hated being left out of these kind of parties even if Pepper had the right idea in making them adult only.

It reminds Peter again of what his future would hold - as an Avenger, with SI, things he’s still wrestling with - feeling so much older than his twenty-six years as they ride down the elevator and silence and make their way out to the city street.

Michelle hails a taxi, Peter still silent and his mind still racing - trying to reconcile this uneasy future with the pressure and the fight he knows he and Michelle still need to have as they slide into the car together. 

She didn’t want this, the life that Pepper had - not so much the money but what Pepper was now, a widow - her husband forever immortalized as a hero but no longer able to be with his family because of what he had done.

Peter knew this was what grief was, complex and twisting in his gut - small waves of gratefulness, anger and pain that Tony was gone, even ten years later. It was a grief he was accustomed to, if you could ever be used to a thing like it, but one that he still hated - knowing the magnitude of all the losses in his life only furthered his tension and overprotective tendencies with Michelle.

But before Peter has the chance to spiral, Michelle stops him - not in words but in a small action, squeezing his hand three times until he looks at her.

It hits him then, without saying a word - that Michelle may not have wanted this life, but she still wanted _him._

Had said it in her vows but also had showed him, time and time again, standing by him when his life as Spider-Man hailed him as a hero and when the Bugle tried to tear him to shreds.

Peter loved Michelle more than he could even explain, a love that was so blinding and bound together that he thinks that in any universe - he’d find her.

Looking into her eyes, Peter sees it - that same recognition and love. 

Because Michelle loved him, had married him. And _still_ wanted to be with him. 

Peter doesn’t say anything and neither does she, no words feeling expressive enough in the moment. 

Instead, he just squeezes her hand three times in response - the faintest smile on her face as he smiles in return.

The future was uncertain, in several ways, but there was one thing that was clear.

Peter could tell there was gonna be a long road ahead, but he was confident now more than ever, despite everything, that whatever came up - they’d face it.

Together.   
  


* * *

  
_Don’t read the last page,_

_But I stay - when it’s hard, or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes._

_I want your midnights._  
  
_But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day._


End file.
